Ta' Viejo Mi Tata

My Tata is getting old
It shows in his tongue
His body hurts
He feels tired

He walks slowly
The noise bothers him
And his hands tell of what he has worked

My Tata is getting old
He forgets things
If I sing milongas, he comes closer to listen
The memory invades him
Of distant days
His teary eyes give him away

They were different times, he worked hard
The rain, the frost wouldn't stop him
He drank mate early, saddled the roan
To do the chores after milking
He filled the jars and the milk truck
Waited outside to be loaded
The company paid two pesos per liter
To sell it for thirty over there in the city
He returned to the little tree whistling to himself
Head bowed, just thinking
Maybe someday, if God wills it
Luck will help me change this
Luck will help me change this

My Tata is getting old
He shouldn't exert himself
He complains about nothing, and it's bad for him
He tends to the animals, the plants, everything
To feel useful to society

My Tata is getting old
He protects himself from the cold
At night he goes to bed, early
Sometimes I see him
Sitting in the yard
Looking into the distance, maybe he's thinking

They were different times, he worked hard
The rain, the frost wouldn't stop him
He drank mate early, saddled the roan
To do the chores after milking
He filled the jars and the milk truck
Waited outside to be loaded
The company paid two pesos per liter
To sell it for thirty over there in the city
He returned to the little tree whistling to himself
Head bowed, just thinking
Maybe someday, if God wills it
Luck will help me change this
Luck will help me change this
Luck will help me change this